Picture Perfect
by Stephane Richer
Summary: He shouldn't feel like he's an awful guy or an awful son or an awful basketball player, because he's not, and Miyaji will just keep telling him he's not until he believes it. He'll carve the kanji reading "you're more than good enough!" into the treads of Kimura's fruit truck and run Takao over with it so the message is imprinted on his skin.


Picture Perfect

Disclaimer: Don't own.

* * *

It's not that he means to continue their relationship after he graduates, it just sort of…happens. Because he leaves behind the school forever, sighs with finality, and goes out to lunch with Kimura, and when he checks his messages later there's a new one from him about when their next date is, and Miyaji's too much of a coward to break up with him and besides, now that he thinks about it graduation isn't a reason to break up.

If anything, it's a reason to stay together, because with the money he's saved up from jobs over the years he can afford the first few months' rent on a place, and he's getting a raise at the fast food place so there's no reason he won't continue to make ends meet in college. And even though Takao will still be busy with basketball, Miyaji always fit in time for his schoolwork and a part-time job and Takao's a hell of a lot smarter than he is, so he'll have no problems. Anyway, they'll both be in the same city, a short train ride away from one another. Not that either one of them has ever met the other's parents or anything, or been to the other's house at all.

But they christen Miyaji's new apartment the night he moves in, after all his other friends get shooed out and there are boxes lying in random places but they have a couch and they have a bed and it's so nice and soft and it's such a nice May night that they end up staying up all night because they both still can't really believe it.

* * *

There's a cheesy piano ballad on the radio, and Takao holds out his hand and tugs Miyaji to his feet. He starts to dance, leading Miyaji in the steps until Miyaji stops him and takes the lead himself, spinning Takao around a few times.

"I should lead; I'm taller," he grumbles.

Takao's face is pressed against Miyaji's chest and he's smiling up adoringly and soon enough the dancing turns into standing and groping.

"You're so indecent, Miyaji!" Takao gasps as Miyaji keeps fondling his ass, but whatever. This isn't a real dance floor, just a square meter or two in his tiny front room/makeshift living room, and the song has changed into a commercial, and they both like this feeling way too much to stop now.

* * *

Takao's got such an open heart and sunny personality; he just draws people to him. But he seeks people out who don't flock to him immediately, who just watch him from afar or who have their own agendas. Miyaji would like to belong to the latter group; he's really in the former. He's watched Takao since the first day of tryouts, and his acuteness and sharp mind and focus completely drew Miyaji in, and he knew already that this guy at age fifteen was better at basketball than Miyaji would ever be, even though he was so much shorter and had so much less experience. It had made him angry and confused and jealous and also something else, something he could not identify (but he later did as attraction, which only served to confuse him further for the time being).

But Takao never seems to have these moments, these awful emotions, until he does, confessing them when he thinks Miyaji is still asleep and caressing the sharp plane of his shoulder blades while he whispers how shitty he feels sometimes, and Miyaji just turns over and tells him to stop because he shouldn't feel that way. He shouldn't feel like he's an awful guy or an awful son or an awful basketball player, because he's not, and Miyaji will just keep telling him he's not until he believes it. He'll carve the kanji reading "you're more than good enough!" into the treads of Kimura's fruit truck and run Takao over with it so the message is imprinted on his skin because Miyaji's the one who doesn't deserve Takao, damn it! He's short-tempered and snappy and self-centered and pompous and violent and disrespectful and untalented and Takao wants him despite of all that, and because of all that.

* * *

Miyaji sits at the table studying, has been sitting there going over the same page again and again and is totally unable to absorb the information for what seems like an hour. He sighs in frustration and slams the paper onto the table.

"You're working too hard," Takao says. "You haven't taken a break in a couple of hours."

Miyaji shrugs. He's got a test tomorrow, and it's important that he memorize these concepts, but it just won't stick in his brain and he won't quit until it does. He looks back at the top of the paper, flat on the table, but suddenly Takao's hand comes out of midair and snatches it away.

"Hey!"

"I'll give it back in a few minutes," Takao says, and begins to massage his shoulders. Miyaji doesn't realize how tight and knotted his shoulders are until Takao starts taking the tension out (but then again, Miyaji is a tense kind of guy, so it's probably safe to say his shoulders are always tense) and he leans back into Takao's fingers and groans. Forget whatever plans this guy had (professional basketball, maybe?) he should just totally become a masseuse. Miyaji's known for a while how nimble and skilled his fingers are, but this is, like, on another level, the insane amount of pleasure he's getting out of this. Takao's hands move lower and lower and Miyaji's entire back is unlocked.

But he can still feel time running, still feels the pressure of the dwindling hours between now and the test. "Takao…" he drags the name out, enjoying the feel of it on his tongue and still kind of unable to speak from the way he's feeling.

Takao pauses. "Hm?"

"Look, if I want to be a teacher, I have to get good grades, and I need—"

"You want to be a teacher?"

Shit. Well, there goes the whole "not-telling-anyone-my-ambition-because-they'll-la ugh-at-me" thing. "Yeah." He can feel his whole face turning red.

"That's great!" Takao says and hugs him from behind. "You've got the kind of work ethic that inspires people, you know? I mean, it's scary, but it's inspiring."

Miyaji decides to take that as a compliment.

"Ooh, and Miyaji-sensei, that sounds nice."

"I'm not a teacher yet," Miyaji grumbles.

"Afraid of jinxing it? I thought you didn't believe in jinxes."

Are there any pineapples in the house?

* * *

Kimura comes over for coffee one afternoon. It's not a particularly pleasant afternoon, kind of humid, so they're better off inside. They're talking soccer in the kitchen when the key clicks in the lock, and Kimura gives Miyaji a look, because he knows Miyaji doesn't have a roommate.

Takao comes in, fresh out from practice, hair still wet from the shower, and gives Kimura a quick greeting and kisses Miyaji on the forehead before heading to the bedroom, most likely to take a nap.

Kimura's still looking at Miyaji all funny after he's left the room. "Dude," he says.

He's known about this from the beginning, without Miyaji having to tell him anything, but he probably thought it would end after graduation, too, because it was the obvious assumption. Miyaji nods.

"Shit."

* * *

It's kind of weird, how domestic they've gotten even though they're rarely at the apartment together. Takao comes over once every week or two after practice, but mostly he just takes a nap on Miyaji's bed and then they chat and stuff and then he goes home, and maybe about once a month he stays over and they make dinner together and watch TV and have sex.

It's really fucking scary, because Miyaji keeps thinking about how young he is and how he should be living the college life right and starving on a shoestring budget and going to wild parties on the weekends. But he's making friends in college anyway and has joined a couple of clubs (basketball is out for now because he really needs a break from it) and is involved in student life, and besides, who wants to be starving? He hasn't worked this hard for this long to be hungry and malnourished every night.

But Takao is still in high school, and he could be having a more exciting, normal high school relationship, but when Miyaji tells him this he just kind of laughs.

"Isn't that just us last year?" he asks.

And fuck it, he's totally right, not that Miyaji will say that out loud, nope.

"I mean, it's, you know, _cool_ to have a boyfriend in college and to do stuff like this," Takao says, and ohh are his ears turning red a little bit? They most definitely are.

He's really so cute and such a kid sometimes, and Miyaji can't control himself (then again, when has he ever been able to?) and he kisses Takao senseless even though they're in the middle of eating dinner.

* * *

It's a hot morning in summer; the weather report says it's going to be a record high today and they can already feel it. Miyaji's got a day off from his job, and Takao has dragged Midorima over, much to the chagrin of both Midorima and Miyaji. Takao and Miyaji are on the couch, legs tangled up in the middle but even that's almost unbearably hot by this point. Takao keeps sending Midorima to the kitchen to fix him drinks, and Midorima seems like he's about to snap (but then why does he keep actually following orders?) any second now. Still, it's kind of bugging Miyaji, something about this whole exchange, and he can't quite put his finger on it until…

"Hey, how come you call him 'Shin-chan' but you only use my last name?"

"You don't call me by my first name," Takao says.

"Neither does he."

Takao shrugs. He's probably never really thought about it; Miyaji knows he hasn't until just now. "Okay," Takao says. "Kiyoshi."

Damn. It's way too hot already for this, because Miyaji's first name sounds way too fucking sexy coming out of Takao's mouth like this, so he pounces, pinning Takao beneath him on the couch, already breathing hard and grinding his hips into Takao's. Takao looks at him with confused eyes, because usually he knows exactly what it is that's gotten Miyaji so hot and bothered because he's very deliberate, but not this time.

"Kazunari," Miyaji says and Takao sinks back into the couch cushions in ecstasy.

They're furiously making out when they hear the sound of glass shattering. Turning, Miyaji sees Midorima, white-faced and shaking. Oh, yeah, that guy. "Get a room!" he shouts.

"Clean the floor before I throw a pineapple at you," Miyaji shouts back and then turns back to Takao and resumes biting his collarbone.


End file.
